


Sold Soldier Soul

by pickyhandshake



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Super Soldier Serum, Superfamily
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 23:01:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3955219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickyhandshake/pseuds/pickyhandshake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You don’t have to do this, Peter.” </p><p>Peter crooked the end of his rifle underneath Steve’s chin. He doesn’t think about how desperate Steve’s voice sounds, or how hard his fingers are laced with Tony’s, opting instead to turn towards his mission leader, asking silently for an order.</p><p>“Do it. You know what we’re here for,” Wade says, his arm a heavy curtain on Peter’s shoulders. “Eliminate the Avengers – start with him.”</p><p>And Peter knows kissing Wade back was the most logical thing to do before. Following Wade, killing the targets, is the most logical thing now. But for the first time in his life, something else fights against the most logical thing. </p><p>
  <em>Peter has supressed emotions and super serum in his veins, a product of Hydra's latest super soldier experiment. They order him to eliminate the Avengers, but he starts to find himself...</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. At Close of Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is a conglomeration of the Avengers (excluding Age of Ultron, because the concepts of Clint having a wife and Natasha being romantic with Bruce sincerely do not make sense to me) and the Spiderman verse. Actually, it’s more like and the Peter Parker verse, because the Peter I write in this story has a unique back-story that isn’t from any Spiderman universe. 
> 
> Just so you know what you’re getting into, here’s the fanfiction ver. of a nutrition box label:  
> -Hydra’s operatives are still trying to recreate the Super Serum and have created a bunch of slightly enhanced human beings, or Super Soldiers, in the process (powers including super strength and hearing)  
> -Peter is eighteen years old, the age when the Super Serum experiments go on live trial, and one of the mutants ordered to eliminate the Avengers  
> -Peter was given a rare treatment wherein the part of his brain controlling his emotions was suppressed. He is one of the three experiments Hydra conducted to see how this logic-centered thinking would pair with mutant ability, and the only survivor of the experiment.  
> -There are 0 Calories in this fic  
> -But maybe a lot of feels  
> -Reviews will be greatly appreciated, treasured like a baby with a college tuition savings account already set aside for it
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the aforementioned verses/characters, neither do I own the poem that will soon be referenced. All credits go to respective owners of the Avengers, Spiderman, Marvel, etc. All I have is this singular plot and a lot of feels.

_Do not go gentle into that good night,_  
_Old age should burn and rave at close of day;_  
_Rage, rage against the dying of the light._  
  
-Dylan Thomas,  Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night  


            Peter was curious. He knew he didn’t have what everyone else had – “feelings” – but that didn’t mean he couldn’t wonder. He wondered often, a curiousness that only rose with each mission they encountered. And he wondered now, sitting in the van across from Harry, how it would feel to be as nervous as him.

            The tall blonde was sitting on the edge of his seat, one slim leg crossed over the other, both legs jittering up and down. Every once in a while the older boy would part one side of his charcoal suit and look down, as if checking to see if his gun was really there.

            “Would you calm the fuck down Osbourn? That leg is getting on everyone’s nerves.”

            The voice came from Gwen, who Peter noted as _also blonde, but shorter, 5’6, leaner,_ and now _rougher._ Gwen’s penchant for swearing was only a single line on the long list of infamy she had gained back in Hydra’s House.

            “Shut up Stacy, don’t act like you’re not ner - ”

            “Did you just tell me to shut up?”

            Harry sat back in his seat, subdued. His eyes flickered from Gwen to Peter, who was sitting adjacent to her.

            “What about you, Parker? Feeling nervous?” Harry’s voice sounded bored, but Peter knew he was trying to cover his submission to Gwen, to assert more dominance in the vehicle’s atmosphere.

            Someone sniggered in the front seat. It sounded like _Mary Jane, redhead, 5’8, best in the House at target practice._

            “You know lil’ Petey doesn’t get the feels,” MJ said. If Peter tried really hard, he could hear her heart beating faster than usual. It was to be expected, after all, she was sitting next to Wade Wilson - the first and strongest super soldier, after Captain America.

            “Well, Parker? How are things in logic land?”

            Peter winked, just because it would throw Harry off, make him confused. Then he would stop talking, and the tension in the car would dissipate. It was the most logical thing to do. And hell, if he threw in a little eye smolder while he did it, it was only because he was bored. Being bored wasn’t an emotion.

            Harry blinked, then blushed. Gwen gave Peter a silent thumbs up after the other boy had looked away, confused. Gwen was the first person Peter had met in the House, and probably one of the only people he trusted completely.

            “We’re here,” Wade said from the driver’s seat. Peter felt the van roll to a smooth stop in front of a steep set of white stairs.

            “Thompson, take my place. We need a driver in case things go south,” Wade commanded. “And make sure you keep the AI off our backs.” Eugene, or as everyone called their speedy hacker, “Flash”, nodded and stepped out of his seat next to Harry and into the driver’s seat.

            Wade motioned for Harry, Peter, Gwen, and MJ to follow him from the car to the building.

            “We all familiar with what we have to do?” Wade asked.

            They all nodded. This time, Peter could hear three sets of hearts beating rapidly. He picked out each one in respect to their owners, and realized Wade had remained completely calm. Curious, he snuck a glance at the leader of their mission. Peter was surprised to see Wade looking back steadily, as if he knew what Peter had been thinking.

            “Alright, good. Then let’s go.”

            As the other four all parted ways, Peter took a moment to stop and scan his surroundings. He craned his neck backwards until it hurt, and even then he could barely make out the red letters that stood out boldly against the tall building’s peak.

            _Avenger’s Tower_ was enormous, sleek and beautiful, reigning peacefully over New York. Peter watched his team enter the building and wondered one more thing – how long that peace would last.

  ...

             “Pepper, can’t a man enjoy his coffee for another five minutes?” Tony swiveled around in his office chair only to meet a pair of stark blue eyes, definitely not belonging to his auburn-haired CEO.

            “Oh. It’s just you.” Tony’s eyes widened. “Wait, Steve! Are you here to tell me my meeting’s canceled?”

            Steve Rogers, also known to the public as Captain America, also known exclusively by Tony as Don’t-Touch-Him-He’s-Mine-But-I-Know-It’s-Tempting, set down another cup of coffee on Tony’s desk with a soft smile. “Good morning to you too, Tony.”

            “How did you know I needed a new cup? You are a lifesaver,” Tony muttered, grabbing the fresh cup and inhaling. “Is this American roast? God, I love you.”

            “I love you , too,” Steve replied automatically, as he always did when Tony said those three words. At first it had discomforted Tony slightly, who thought his husband was simply trained to respond to endearments with reciprocity, as if this was some part of the 1950’s curriculum. Eventually, Tony had understood that Steve truly meant it every time – and yes, he _had_ been taught to politely say it back to Tony every time, as long as it was true. Tony found that absolutely adorable.

            Steve slid into the chair across from Tony’s desk, looking despondently at his fingertips. He looked as if someone had stolen his lunch money. Tony wondered if it was possible to die from the overwhelming feeling of tenderness in his chest.

            “What’s up, Cap?” He asked, mentally high-fiving himself for how casual his voice managed to sound outwardly.

            “Clint and Natasha are still in sick bay. The doctors say Clint has a concussion and a broken arm, and Natasha was badly wounded in the lung-area.”

            Tony’s mouth twitched at Steve’s botched medical “lung-area” terminology. He sidled around the desk until he could touch Steve’s arm comfortingly.

            “They’re going to be fine, Steve. Natasha and Clint have handled much worse before, and came out of it fresh-faced, like nothing ever happened.”

            “I know, I know…I just wish Fury would stop sending them on operations without us to back them up.”

            Tony grimaced. “Fury told me there were _complications_ due to _high profile missions.”_ He mimicked Fury’s voice, putting one hand over his left eye. “We can’t send the entire team on a secret mission, Tony. It’s classified, Tony. And no, even though you dedicated your entire Tower to the team, you’re still not on the classified list.”

            Steve pulled Tony’s arm off his face. “Don’t make fun of his eye-patch, Tony.” But the captain was smiling now, so Tony counted it as a win.

            He leaned down and kissed Steve softly. “I love that you care about the team so much, Steve, but sometimes you have to let things run their course.”

            Steve frowned against Tony’s lips, but kissed him back. He pulled Tony down from his perch on the desk until he was sitting on Steve’s lap. Tony pushed his lips eagerly against Steve’s, wrapping his arms around his husband’s torso. His hand traveled down Steve’s chest, then lower.

            “Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” Tony knew Steve was trying for disapproving, but his voice sounded low and breathy, so Steve was a failure.

            Tony shrugged against Steve’s chest, deepening the kiss.

            “Seriously, Tony,” Steve tried.

            “I am serious,” Tony said, angling his face downwards so his eyes could smolder a little.

            Steve grinned, and almost leaned in before stopping himself. “Tony!”

            “Okay, okay.” Tony pushed against Steve’s shoulders until he could stand. “But I guarantee this meeting is going to be boring, and stupid, and I don’t understand why Pepper can’t just go in my stead.”

            “Because you’re Tony Stark, and when business people have a meeting about Tony Stark’s company, they’ll want Tony Stark to be there.”

            “Yeah yeah, whatever.” Tony made his way to the office door. He blew Steve a kiss. “Miss me.”

            “I will,” Steve responded sincerely, and he even raised a fist to catch the kiss, bless him.

            Tony strode over to the elevator. “Jarvis, second floor.”

            “Certainly.”

            Tony tried to smooth out the wrinkles in his suit while he waited, until he realized he didn’t actually care what he looked like in front of the ‘business people.’ Heck, he had only been in his office to pretend like he was going over notes, just in case Pepper came looking for him. He hadn’t even wanted to make an office on this floor, but Pepper had insisted on it.

            The incident with Clint and Natasha was still a sore subject, Tony reflected, as the elevator doors began opening. Besides Bruce, who was away on a research trip, and Thor, who was doing some Asgard thing,Tony remembered how pale the team’s faces had gotten when they had received the news. Pepper had canceled all of Tony’s meetings, and Phil had walked around without a tie on for a full day. Even JARVIS had sounded worried when he had said, “Clint and Natasha, in the hospital wing, injury updates ongoing.”

            It was a nightmare, that was for sure. Everyone was still pretty frustrated with Fury, which Tony relished, because he was usually always frustrated with Fury. But Tony knew that if anyone could get through a mission gone wrong, it was the two spies healing in the sick bay three floors above.

           The elevator greeted its destination with a soft _ping._

           “Sir?” JARVIS prompted, when Tony hesitated to get out.

           “I really, really am not in the mood for this meeting,” Tony explained.

           “You’re never in the mood for meetings, sir,” JARVIS tactfully pointed out.

           “True,” Tony agreed. He stepped out of the elevator with a longing backwards glance.

            As he entered the meeting room, a rush of cold air hit his face. Why was it that meeting rooms for business-related shenanigans were always a fraction more icy than anywhere else?

           Tony looked around, spotting a few familiar faces and many unknowns that he probably should recognize but didn’t care enough to remember. Amongst them was a young redhaired woman who looked, quite honestly, like she could be Natasha’s younger self.

          “Who invited high school?” Tony asked, jerking his head in mini-Natasha’s direction as he sat down.

          The tall, silver haired man next to her (Mr. Penkins? Perkins?) raised his hand. 

           “She’s my intern,” he said, affronted.

          “Uh, right. Sure, okay.” Tony rifled through some papers in front of him. “So, what’s up, guys?”

...

           Peter reviewed as he walked. Flash was in the van, hacking Avenger Towers’ security and gaining access into JARVIS’ protocols in order to let the team into the building. MJ was in the business room with Tony, continuing her front as an intern in the company she had applied to work for a few months back. Wade and Gwen were on their way to sick bay to keep Hawkeye and the Black Widow down.

           That left Peter walking alongside Harry, on their way to the seventh floor. They had to take the stairs, because although they had successfully breached JARVIS’ security, now moving unseen from the AI’s eyes, they certainly weren’t going to risk ordering him to move elevators for them.

           Peter understood why he had been left with Harry. Gwen and Wade were the House’s strongest fighters. Giving them the responsibility to subdue two injured spies was the best decision. Flash was the hacker, MJ was the actor…which left Peter and Harry on hostage duty.

           But a little piece of Peter wanted to simply do this part of the mission solo. Sure, there were two targets – Miss Pepper Pots and Phil Coulson – but honestly, Harry was talking so loudly he would give them both away before they even reached the target’s headquarters.

           "So how does it work, the whole emotion-less thing? Do you always think of what’s most logical, or do you just follow the House’s orders because their logic is simultaneous with yours? Also, what’s up with you and Stacy? I always see you two around, but I kind of thought you were into guys, so I don’t really know - ”

           Peter twisted around, bringing the edge of his elbow into the nook between Harry’s chin and throat. He kept his other hand firmly on the base of Harry’s neck, effectively pinning the taller boy against him.

           “Be quiet before you give us away,” he breathed lowly into Harry’s ear, feeling the other boy shiver.

           Peter released Harry as quickly as he had grabbed him, and continued walking. Harry hesitated, then carried on walking as well, though the gap between them was greater this time.

           “Secure Agent Coulson,” Peter said, gesturing to the left. “According to Flash’s blueprints, he’s two doors down that way. I’ll take Pepper.”

           “Fine.” Harry looked at Peter, hard, the way someone does when they’re trying to put a face to a name, to discern who you are.

           “Osbourn?”

           Harry blinked, then looked away. “I’m going already,” he grumbled, pushing one hand into his suit where his gun was.

           Peter watched the blonde retreat, only walking down the hallway when he was sure Harry was gone. This strange fascination the boy had with him was going to become a problem. But for now, Peter had to concentrate on the mission.

           He walked quietly down the hallway until he reached Pepper’s office. The entire stretch of hallway was lined with office doors, but it wasn’t hard to find Pepper’s. Hers was the biggest. As CEO, this was normal, but Peter knew their target was picked for more than her company value. Tony Stark was sure to comply with demands if his close friend was in harm’s way.

           Peter knocked on the door softly, twice.

           “Come in.” The response was immediate. Pepper was certainly a busy woman, probably expecting some business associate at this very moment. It would make things trickier – but not impossible.

           Peter stepped inside the office, closing the door shut behind him. He shut the blinds near him, for the windows facing the hallway, as quickly as possible. Pepper didn’t even noticed, too absorbed with a document she had amongst the many on her desk. Her auburn hair was cut crisply at her shoulders, bangs parted neatly around soft eyes. She was wearing a bright peach-colored blouse that fit snugly around thin, yet strong shoulders.

           Peter waited, silent and patient. After a full minute, Pepper looked up, confused.

           “Hello, how can I help…?” Pepper took in Peter’s dark suit and young face, perplexed.

           “Hi,” Peter said, pulling his handgun from the inside pocket of his suit and lifting it directly in line of Pepper’s bangs. “Do as I say, and you will not be harmed. Turn around, and close your blinds.”

           Pepper’s eyes widened, but to Peter’s surprise, her heart rate remained calm. She stood up slowly, hands raised, then turned to the window overlooking the city behind her and pulled the blinds shut.

           “You’ve made the right choice in cooperating,” Peter said, putting on a tone he had learned was reassuring. “Now step away from your desk,” he motioned to his right, “and sit over at one of those chairs.”

           Pepper stepped away from the desk, her hands still raised, expression unreadable. She sat down on the edge of a chair, still managing to look graceful despite her precarious situation.

           “I’m going to search you for weapons now,” Peter said. “Do not resist.” Peter stepped closer to Pepper, then patted her down for any weapons. He found a small handgun secured in the loop of her belt and tossed it away.

           "Who do you work for?” Pepper asked, eyes on Peter, not the gun.

           Peter was impressed. Clearly Tony Stark knew how to pick formidable friends. Spies, Captain America, and this badass lady, to name a few. He found a dagger strapped to the side of her ankle, and tossed that away, too.

           “There’s no need to worry. Don’t ask questions, just sit and wait. This will be over soon,” Peter recited. The House had taught him to reassure the hostage that their safety would be restored as long as they complied.

           “What’s your name?” Pepper persisted. “You look young. You can’t be working this operation alone.”

           “Just sit,” Peter said, moving near the blinds to peek into the hallway, “and wait.” He kept his gun trained on Pepper.

           A second later, a knock resounded in the room. Pepper’s head jerked up involuntarily.

           Peter walked over to her so he could speak without being overheard from outside. “Who should this be?” He asked Pepper quietly.

           “Um, Odwin, I think,” Pepper stammered. Peter listened, but her heart reassured him she was telling the truth. “Odwin Young, asking about a charity donation.”

           “Okay. Tell Odwin you’re busy, and can’t talk now,” Peter instructed calmly, but pressed the gun closer to her.

           “I’m busy, and can’t talk now,” Pepper echoed, and Peter had to give her credit for how calm she sounded.

           “Parker, it’s me. Open up.”

           Peter stared at the door. “Osbourn?”

           Pepper turned to look inquisitively at Peter, the edge of her hair brushing against the tip of the gun.

           Peter walked swiftly backwards to the door, eyes glued to Pepper. He fumbled behind him and opened the door, jumping back when he saw Agent Coulson’s face.

           “Relax Parker, I got this.” Harry peeked over the agent’s shoulder, pushing his gun closer to the back of Coulson’s face to show it to Peter.

           Harry marched Coulson inside the office, pushing the door shut behind him with one foot. He turned to grin at Peter. “Looks like we got both hostages, huh?”

           Peter didn’t take his eyes off Pepper. “What are you doing here, Osbourn. We’re supposed to keep the hostages separate, so as to avoid suspicion, not keep them both in the same room. Please don’t tell me you actually walked the target all the way here with a gun at his back.”

           “Relax,” Harry manhandled Coulson over to a chair next to Pepper. “Nobody was around. JARVIS is on lockdown. It’s all good.”

           Peter narrowed his eyes, then motioned for Coulson to move away. The man’s face was even more neutral than Peppers, but his eyes betrayed a myriad of action. No doubt the agent had been through hostage training before, hell had probably even been a hostage before, multiple times. Peter didn’t doubt the agent’s ability for a second. “Sit him at that chair,” he pointed to somewhere a little farther from Pepper, “they can’t sit so close together.”

           “The fuck, Parker? They’re unarmed. They don’t have any powers or whatever. We have guns to their heads. Calm the fuck down.”

           “Osbourn, they were picked as hostages for a reason. They can’t be this close to the Avengers without knowing a few tricks. Coulson is an agent for Chrissake. Why did you bring him here again?”

           “I got bored. And I wanted to see you.”

           Peter allowed himself one second to close his eyes.

           “This is why the House experimented,” he muttered. He began to feel a headache coming on. He'd been having them a lot lately, and while Harry wasn't always near him for all of them, Peter decided blaming him for the cause was pretty valid.

           Harry narrowed his eyes at Peter. He opened his mouth to say something, but Peter silenced him with a glance. There was no advantage in giving away any information about them to their hostages.

           “Who do you work for?” Coulson asked, as casually as someone asking what kind of tea was the best.

           Harry whirled on the agent, jutting the gun against the bridge of his nose. “What did I say about asking questions?”

           “Calm down Osbourn,” Peter said, unsettled. He would have to warn Wade the next time he saw him. Harry was clearly not ready for this mission. His headache intensified, sharply.

           As if on cue, Peter’s phone buzzed. He reached into his pocket with one hand, gun still in the other.

           “This is Spider,” Peter said, grimacing slightly at the nickname. He couldn’t help it, but spiders unsettled him. It wasn’t fear, he was sure of it, it couldn’t be an emotion, but spiders certainly produced a certain discomfort within him. It was the only “fear” Hydra had found in him, and somehow became common knowledge amongst the others in the House.

           “Hello Spider, this is Red,” MJ responded cheerily. She had been the one to suggest Peter’s code name. “We’ve got the business men on one side of the room, Iron Man on the other. Well, he’s not so much Iron Man right now. We got the suit-bracelet thing off him.”

           Peter could see Pepper and Coulson craning their heads to listen in on the conversation, and moved away slightly. He kept his eyes trained on Pepper’s.

           “Great,” Peter affirmed, “our situation is also successful.” A thought occurred to him. “Wait, you got the suit? You didn’t need Pepper and Coulson to convince him?”

           “Nah, I figured it out.”

           “Red. What did you do.”

           Relax, Petey pie. Only what I had to do. I took out a few of the business dudes to let him know I was serious."

           Peter swore. “You killed them?”

           Pepper’s eyes widened, and she almost got up, forgetting for a moment where she was. Peter wondered briefly how much she loved Tony, and whether that love ran deeper than her own self-worth.

           “No, Parker, I sang them a lullaby and they made Tony promise to work with me. Yes, I killed them.”

           “Red! That was not part of the plan.”

           Pepper rocked back and forth on the edge of her seat, clearly out of her mind to know what was going on. Even Harry watched curiously, though Coulson simply sat motionless in his chair.

           “Fuck the plan, Parker. Tony was about to go full-on Iron Man on me, I had to distract him, then convince him to take off the suit. But don’t feel like you didn’t help, the hostages are still useful. We need to convince Tony to shut down JARVIS completely, and not temporarily like Flash has it now.”

           Peter snapped the phone shut, unsure how to proceed. Sometimes, he wondered if the House was wrong about aiming to get rid of emotions. For some people, people like MJ, having them made doing missions a lot more enjoyable. Peter knew that he had done some pretty hefty things on the basis of orders and the logic of carrying them out, but MJ…she did them simply because it was fun.

           “What happened,” Coulson asked, his voice rough. He was looking down at his tie, head hanging low.

           “Parker?” Harry asked.

           "Stop using my name.”

           “Excuse me?”

           “I said, stop using my name. It’s not protocol.” Peter flipped through his phone until he got to the address book. “This whole entire mission – everyone’s breaking protocol.”

           “You used my name.”

           "Yeah, well, you had already compromised me by then,” Peter replied.

           Harry watched Peter, eyes narrowed. “For someone not emotional, you sure seem worked up. What’s going on? Who did M – Red kill?”

           “A couple of business associates.”

           Pepper made a soft noise, halfway between a gasp and a moan.

           “I’m going to call W,” Peter said. His thumb was on the call button when Coulson suddenly whipped his head up. All Peter got was a glimpse of silver and blue before Harry was crying out, dropping his gun and clutching his head. Coulson didn’t even blink, instead the agent dove for the gun and had it trained on Harry in an instant.

           “Okay, Parker,” Coulson said, his voice and gun-hand steady. “It seems like you are more in control of what’s happening here than him. So you and I? We’re going to have a talk.”

           Something rolled across the floor next to Peter’s foot. He realized it was a pen, the same one Coulson had had in his suit pocket a mere second ago, and had captured between his teeth and slashed Harry on the forehead with.

           “Put the gun down, Peter, and I will refrain from putting a bullet in Osbourn’s head.”

 


	2. At Their End Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. I'm sure some hipster out there has grown a full beard in the time it has taken me to post this chapter.  
> My apologies! 
> 
> I hope the wait was worth while. This chapter is unbetaed and written at very questionable hours, so all inevitable mistakes are mine.  
> Also, uh, in my head canon Captain America has super hearing. They never actually show that in the movies, but I think I read it in the comics. Let's just go with it 'cause it sets up major feels development, shall we? (priorities)
> 
> I don't own any of these heroic dudes, or villainous peeps, etc, etc, blahblahblah

_Though wise men at their end know dark is right,_  
_Because their words had forked no lightning they_  
_Do not go gentle into that good night._  
  
-Dylan Thomas; Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

 

           The plan was simple. Flash got the team inside the tower. Wade and Gwen were in charge of subduing Natasha and Clint. MJ had Tony. Bruce and Thor were absent, the spies were injured – there was no better time to attack the Avengers than now. And if things went south, Peter and Harry had hostages that the Avengers cared deeply about. Once Tony was subdued, they would have another hostage so that Captain America would back down.

           MJ had taken things into her own hands. Because the plan was simple. Too simple. Who said she had to wait for Peter and Harry to secure the hostages, when she could simply take out Iron Man herself? She recognized his type. Stark was all talk and no back bone. When it came down to it, he would sacrifice himself for a few measly businessmen he didn’t even know.

           And that’s why she had pulled her gun on Mr. Perkins and Mr. Yang, because honestly, if Stark fought her as Iron Man, she was a goner. Instead, it was better to show him she was serious. She would kill unless he stood down.

           So she interrupted Stark mid-BS (it was clear the man did not actually prepare for the meeting) and put her gun on the side of Mr. Perkin’s head, demanding Stark to hand over the suit-activating bracelets he had on his wrists. And when he had hesitated, she pulled the trigger.

           Unfortunately, Stark had still hesitated after that. Because Iron Man did not become Iron Man by being an idiot. The suit was his only defense mechanism, and the only way he would be able to help the business men, too. So MJ had to take some more drastic measures. When Stark began activating the bracelets, she had to fire at him – only in the leg, they needed him alive to deactivate JARVIS – as a distraction, then took another hostage, Mr. Yang.

           But Peter needn’t have worried. Everything was going to be fine. She now had Iron Man under control, and by extension, Captain America. She admired Peter, really, she did. Having no emotions made him a formidable weapon. But she had soon realized, from previous missions, that Peter went strictly by the book. And in that boring book, the use of weapons had too many rules.

           Which was honestly too bad. She wouldn’t have minded taking a metaphorical tumble in the hay with the brunette. She largely ignored Harry’s rambling about Peter being gay. It was clear the blonde was obsessed to the point of delusion. No, she and Peter would have made a great team. But Peter wouldn’t relent, and so she was reduced to teasing the boy perpetually, half-flirting, half-aggravated.

           Currently, the conference room was deathly quiet. Deathly! God, MJ wished someone was here to witness these jokes. Unfortunately, her current crowd did not seem like the type to appreciate her humor.

           were all hunched over the long glass table, hands on the backs of their heads. Only Stark alone was not, and this was because he was currently on the floor nursing an injured leg. MJ swiveled her chair idly in his direction, watching expression after expression fly across his face like birds heading north. Fear took turns with anger and sorrow. Now though, was curiosity. Light brown eyes gazed up at her, cloudy with pain.

           “Who are you?” In the man's defense, Tony kept his voice even. He could have been discussing the weather.

           “Your worst nightmare,” MJ grinned, because she had always wanted to say that and not be lying. Tony didn’t flinch, simply narrowed his eyes.

           The phone next to MJ suddenly went off, singing the chorus to Taylor Swift’s _Bad Blood._

“That would be my friend Spider, updating me on his current situation with your friends Pepper and Coulson,” MJ informed Stark cheerily. This time he did flinch.

            “Hello there, Petey pie,” MJ crooned. Then, “oh sorry Flash, I didn’t check the caller ID.”

            Tony watched as MJ tossed her head back charmingly, laughing at something ‘Flash’ said on the other end. Her long, pale neck lay exposed and while once upon a time Tony may have found the sight exhilarating, he had progressed from that. Now he had a husband who he loved, and also this woman had shot him in the leg without hesitation. So yeah, he had progressed.

            “Oh, you know Peter, always going by the books for everything, but what does it matter if no one’s using the code names properly? What does it matter if Iron Man knows our names, what’s he gonna do, tell his maker when he meets him? Please.”

            Tony wanted to snort. First Taylor Swift _,_ now that joke? MJ certainly might kill him, but it didn’t look like her gun would be the weapon of choice. He would simply die of exposure to extreme tackiness. The bullet residing in his thigh did hurt, though. Like a bitch.

            “Look, I’ll call you back when Stark cooperates.” MJ was saying. “After Spider puts that pretty CEO on the line. Or maybe the Tie Guy. Whoever it will be that’ll make Stark talk.”

            MJ placed the phone back on the glass countertop. “Things are a little behind schedule,” she mused to no one in particular. “Peter should have called back by now.”

            “So what _is_ the plan, exactly?” Stark asked. “Subdue me, then keep my friends as hostages so I’ll deactivate Jarvis?” Honestly, Stark was surprised this trigger-happy bunch of youths had managed to suppress Jarvis for this long.

            “Yeah, yeah,” MJ said. She might not follow the book as rigidly as Peter, but no way in hell was she talking to the target.

            “Oh, c’mon now. There has to be more to the plan than that. We’re the Avenger’s, for fucks sake. World’s mightiest superheroes. We’re kind of awesome and powerful and shit. Look, can you at least distract me from the excruciating pain in my leg? You said it yourself, it’s not like I’m going to live to tell my tale.”

            MJ huffed a laugh. No, Stark thought with a sinking feeling in his chest, she wouldn’t talk. This wasn’t one of those spy novels where the villain spieled her life story while the stunningly handsome hero was temporarily out of commission. (But if it was a novel, he was definitely the stunningly handsome hero).

            Yet what Tony Stark did not know was just how soon he would know the rest of the plan, whether he wanted to, or not.

…

            Peter’s relied on logic to guide him the way a compass relies on the magnetic pull of the Earth for direction. Usually logic equaled the House’s rules. But what was irritatingly true about that statement was – there were no rules for having a gun pointed at your head by a hostage.

            For several reasons – one, a superserum House soldier should never have let themselves get into such a precarious situation. And two, the solution was usually resolved by shooting to kill.

            Except in this instance, Peter was not the only soldier down. Harry lay on his stomach on the floor, one hand still grasping the wounded side of his head. Pepper had stood up alongside Coulson, and was now training a gun of her own at Peter. She had grabbed the one Peter took from her off the floor the second Coulson had Harry in his crosshairs.

            “Now, normally I’d say we’re pretty evenly matched,” Coulson was saying. It was technically true – Peter had his gun on Pepper, Coulson had his on Harry, Pepper’s was pointed at Peter. Harry was the only one not contributing to the ludicrous gun-triangle.

            “Except, I have no qualms about killing him,” Coulson gestured towards Harry. “I think people who foolishly try and attack the Avengers believe that because we’re the ‘good guys,’ we don’t know how to use the trigger button. But I was just informed that your associate killed two innocent people. And personally, I’m not beneath cutting a bitch out of revenge.”

            Peter said nothing, keeping his gaze trained on Coulson and his gun level with Pepper’s bangs. He had no way of knowing if Coulson was bluffing or not. The man’s blue-grey eyes were unreadable.

            “But I hear you need us alive, Parker,” Coulson went on. “Without us, Tony has no need to hold Jarvis back. If you shoot Pepper, I _will_ shoot your friend, and then I will put a bullet through my own brain before you can let your plan play out a single step. You’ll be left without a move.”

            And that was when Peter decided Coulson was bluffing. Survival was a basic human instinct. It preceded strategy or even sacrifice. So two could play at this game.

            “Go ahead,” Peter said. “Shoot him. He’s no friend of mine, he’s simply a part of the plan. But I can improvise.” _I’m improvising right now._

            Coulson looked taken aback for a moment. He looked past Peter’s head, as if trying to see a solution that wasn’t there. After a beat, he spoke his next words slowly, as if picking them with care.

            “So you have Iron Man down. The assassins – I’m betting you know that’s what they are if you got this far in your schemes – may have been subdued. But, where does that leave you with Mr. Rogers?”

            And then something slammed into Peter from behind. His head knocked against the ground with an audible _click,_ flooding him with pain and adrenaline. Peter reacted instantly, flipping in his opponent’s arms and lashing out with a violent kick. As he struggled he caught a glimpse of blonde hair and an expression of concentrated anger.

            Peter was fighting against the original superserum success himself.

  
…

- _Fifteen minutes earlier-_

           Steve lingered in Tony’s office. It was nice. Spacious, clean, smelling of a freshly printed newspaper – Steve kind of wished he had an office job, just so Tony could make him one of these. Hell, he might ask for it anyway. God knew the Tower had enough space.

           Speaking of Tony, he would probably be stuck in his meeting for a good couple of hours. Steve stretched, wondering what he could do in the meantime. It was ridiculous, but when he wasn’t urged to be Captain America, there really wasn’t much to be preoccupied by. Guiltily, he almost wished New York would have a crisis, just so he’d have something to do.

           It wasn’t that Steve didn’t have hobbies. He liked to settle down with a good book, or have a lengthy session with a canvas and some paints. Plus, he was still getting updated on his daily “How to Swag” lessons (Tony’s title for Steve’s modern culture teachings). Steve was pretty sure there was some inane Youtube cat video or viral Facebook post just lurking around on the internet, waiting for him.

           But sometimes, Steve didn’t want to do any of that stuff. He – he didn’t know what he wanted. To roam the streets of 1920’s Lower East Side Manhattan, probably. But since that wasn’t a possibility, he settled on immersing himself so fully in the present that he wouldn’t have room to miss the past.

           Time to see what hijinks Natasha and Clint were up to. Or more appropriately, what hijinks Natasha was indulgently letting Clint get up to. They might be wounded, but those assassins’ minds were continuously sharp. Pepper’s office was on the way. He’d stop by and have a chat, if she wasn’t busy. Steve stretched again before leaving his seat, shutting the office door behind him quietly.

           Strange. The elevator was taking an awfully long time to come down from Pepper’s floor, almost as if it were stuck. Which was impossible, due to JARVIS’ abilities. He briefly considered calling out to JARVIS, then realized he had pampered himself long enough. The stairs were right there, on his right. 1920’s Steve Rogers wouldn’t have hesitated to take them.

           Even stranger, however, was Pepper’s business hallway. It was completely silent. He actually heard the _whump_ of his sneakers against the floor’s plush carpeting. And then, abruptly, the silence was murdered by a startled cry.

           It had come from Pepper’s office! What the hell? Steve began picking up speed on the carpet. He knew that he had to turn off his fighting instincts when he came back to the Tower, but unless some executive chose to scream aloud about a botched business plan, that was decidedly a yell for help.

           As Steve neared the office, he could hear Coulson’s voice, steady and fiercely determined.

           “Go ahead,” a foreign voice was saying. “Shoot him. He’s no friend of mine, he’s simply a part of the plan. But I can improvise.”

_What? ‘Shoot him’? Why does Coulson have a gun out in Pepper’s office?_

           Steve stepped closer, cautious now. He had to discern the situation before jumping into the fray. The blinds to Pepper’s office were shut, but there was a sliver near the doorframe. He pressed his eye to it.

           He could make out Coulson’s frame, suit slightly disheveled. Pepper stood next to him, but more startling than the defense weapons in both their hands was the young, lanky figure that stood with his back to Steve. And there was also a gun in his hand.

_What the hell is happening?_

           Suddenly, Steve locked eyes with Coulson. The latter made no sign that he saw Steve, but raised his voice slightly.

           “So you have Iron Man down. The assassins – I’m betting you know that’s what they are if you got this far in your schemes – may have been subdued. But, where does that leave you with Mr. Rogers?”

           Steve went rigid. _So you have Iron Man down._ What did that mean? _What did that mean?_ But he recognized Coulson’s cue. He had to move. Steve lunged for the door handle frantically, bursting into the office and tackling the stranger.

…

_-Fifteen minutes later-_

           Gwen stood on the opposite side of Wade, trying not to stare. But, for fuck’s sake, the man had taken down the Black Widow without a moment’s hesitation.

           It had been decided beforehand that Gwen would be responsible for subduing the assassin known as Hawk-eye, leaving Wade with the Black Widow. While both assassin’s were formidable, Hawk-eye had reportedly graver injuries. His head wound would make him an easy target. And Gwen had less experience than Wade. So it made sense. It was Peter who had come up with the plan, of course. As the logical one, he was one of the House’s top strategists.

           Wade was the mission leader, so he could refute any of Peter’s decisions if he wanted. Surprisingly, he had objected to none. If Peter had Wade’s approval, he was certainly good at what he did. And if it had been anyone other than Peter, Gwen would have considered that a threat. But Peter’s success made Gwen pleased. She wasn’t naïve – the House had stamped that out long ago – Gwen knew that technically, Peter was competition. But he was also the closest thing she had to a friend. She felt happy when she was with him. Sometimes, when she let herself think about these things, she felt Peter’s inability to reciprocate like a heavy blow.

           Gwen traded her thoughts about Peter with the current mission at hand. _Focus._ Wade had barged into the hospital wing and shot the Black Widow with a tranquilizer dart, leaving Gwen to aim her stun-gun on Hawk-eye. Assassins or no, they were only human. The tranquilizers had enough sedation in them to knock out a full-grown horse. Hawk-eye, with his concussion, stood absolutely no chance.

           His companion, however, resisted in a spectacular display of determination. Sluggishly, the red-head had reached for a handgun that had seemingly been attached to the underside of the hospital mattress. She actually had it trained in their direction, before Wade crashed into her side, sending the gun flying. Shooting her with another tranquilizer would probably kill her. Gwen watched in wonder as Wade opted instead for a calculated swing.

           His reaction had been incredible. In no time at all, the leader crossed the room and sprang into action. There was no doubt in his eyes. If he had to, he would have done anything. She wondered if that would someday include taking her down.

           Gwen wished now, with fear catching up to adrenaline, that she had what Peter had. She would even take the headaches Peter often got from his procedure.

           She stared again in Wade’s direction, at the faint, silvery crisscrossing on his nose and brow, like muted spider-webs. With more experience came more scars. The lean muscles in his torso strained against the vest he wore, highlighted by his exposed arms. She supposed Wade was attractive, once one got past the intimidation. Perhaps that was why she often caught Peter glancing in the young man’s direction. Peter wouldn’t have felt any intimidation in the first place.

           But was attraction an emotion? If it were simply a matter of biology, Peter would have succumbed to Harry’s incessant pining months ago. Did he want Wade’s attention specifically? Did that mean the procedure was not one hundred percent effective, if Peter was able to feel certain things?

           It seemed inane to think about these sorts of things while on a mission, but to be honest, Gwen’s part was done. The assassins were subdued. She was allowed to think whatever superfluous things she wanted.

           According to Peter’s plan, Stark should have shut Jarvis down long ago, effectively trapping Captain America on whatever floor he was on. That was two Avengers down. Coupled with her own bounty, the ‘heroes’ should be out for the count.

           Once Gwen and Wade got the affirmation phone call from both MJ and Peter, they could contact the House. But they had waited far longer than the plan had called for. What was going on?

…

           Peter wasn’t surprised when his kick did not send Steve flying, but merely made the latter stumble back a few feet. Steve wasn’t a human, so Peter’s enhanced strength wouldn’t mean much.

           Fortunately, Harry had decided Pepper was sufficiently distracted and rose from his position on the carpet, knocking the gun from her hand. It then traded grips, now firmly in his. And then he promptly shot Coulson.

           The gun’s discharge blasted loudly in the contained office, making Peter’s opponent freeze.

           When Steve made no move to comply, Harry trained the gun on Pepper.  
             
           “Now!”

           Every single person in the room knew that a bullet would only be a hindrance to Steve. But now every single person also knew that Harry would not hesitate to shoot anyone else if Steve did not obey him.

           Steve back away, horrified, trying to slide his gaze past Harry to reach Coulson. The agent had dropped facedown onto the floor and was not moving. A small, growing stain of red encircled his torso.

           “Harry.” Peter raised himself up from where he had been crouched on the floor. He strode over to Coulson’s body, turning him carefully face-up. “Harry, what did you do.”

           “Relax, I shot him in the shoulder.”

           Pepper let out half a sob. Steve sagged against the wall, palms still reaching upwards.

           “Harry, we needed him coherent.” It did seem however, that Harry was telling the truth. Coulson’s right shoulder was bleeding sluggishly, but the bullet had missed vital areas.

           “Not really.” Harry shrugged. “Now we have someone even more valuable to barter with.” He gestured almost lazily in Steve’s direction.

           Peter stared. He pulled his phone out of his suit pocket.

           “Red.”

           “Darling.”

           “We’ve got him.”

           “Got who? Coulson?”

           “Yes, and Rogers. We’ve got Rogers.”

           "Well why didn’t you say so, for fuck’s sake? You hear that, Stark? Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker phone.”

           “Don’t, Red. Status update from the others?”

           “All clear. W has the other two. Iron Man’s still in the corner nursing his ouchie. We need to get Jarvis down more permanently. Can I put you on speaker now?”

           “Okay. Do it.” Peter breathed deeply through his nose, hyper-aware that Steve could hear the entire conversation, despite his proximity. Superhearing had been part of the original superserum package. The House had only succeeded in a replica of superserum, not an advancement. In some, the ones not cleared for missions, it had even only been half a replica.

           “You’re liiiive, Peter pie.”

           Peter turned to Steve Rogers, looking him in the eyes for the first time. They were bluer than his pictures depicted.

           “I know you heard all that was said. You’ll know then, that your husband Tony Stark is under the mercy of my teammate. If you want him to survive, you will urge him to turn JARVIS’ defense mechanisms off. If he does not comply, he is of no further use to us.”

           A lot of people were unreadable in moments of utter shock. Steve was not one of them. His entire facial expression was composed in a jigsaw of hurt and fear. His rigid stance radiated anger. Peter had learned how to recognize the emotions he did not share. The intensity of them now, however, was so great that he almost took a step back. Was it possible to feel this much for someone other than yourself? It wasn’t logical, but – was it possible?

           Peter made himself walk closer to his captive. He pushed the phone towards Steve’s mouth. There was no need for speaker phone, both he and Harry would be able to hear Tony’s reply.

           “Tony.” Steve’s voice cracked. “Tony, you have to do what they say.” He sounded hushed, like a shy schoolboy. He could have been asking Tony on a date. Peter was reminded that the two of them were in love.

           “Fuck that, Steve. They have Nat and Clint, as well. Without JARVIS, our entire team is down. We’d be sitting ducks.”

           “We’re already sitting ducks,” Steve said. “Tony, are you okay? How badly are you hurt?”

           “Don’t ask que-” Harry started.

           “Don’t worry about me, it’s just a surface wound. And duck you for giving in so easily,” was the reply.

           Steve gave a strangled huff. “So, a head-wound, then?”

           “Look, Steve, we can’t do this.”

           “We have to.” Steve gazed imploringly at Peter. He saw nothing in the boy’s eyes. Steve set his mouth in a grim line. “I love you, Tony.”

           “Fuck.” In the background, Peter could hear a the soft clicks of computer buttons being pressed. It was working. JARVIS would soon be compromised. “Fuck, Steve, I -”

           Abruptly the line was cut off.

           “No! Let me talk to him,” Steve rose from his slump on the wall, “Please, at least give me this.”

           “Get back,” Peter said. His voice sounded small in his ears. Out of the corner of his eye Peter saw Harry spare him a hesitant look. The headache revisited him, haunting. “Get back,” he said louder, more firmly.

           Steve complied. What else could he do?

           “Parker.” Peter jumped. He had almost forgotten Pepper was in the room. She had stayed quiet throughout it all. But clearly she had been listening, and now used Peter’s name as Coulson had. What did they think would happen – did people think mercy was unlocked by a name?

           “Please check on Coulson. There’s no need for more deaths. It’s purposeless, it wouldn’t be – it wouldn’t be logical.”

           Peter glanced at the CEO sharply. Just how much had she observed?

           But she was right. Peter shrugged out of his suit jacket, tearing off a strips of fabric with his bare hands. He knew he was giving away more and more of himself with every action he took, but what did it matter? JARVIS would soon be shut down. They would have the Tower under their control, and the Avengers with it.

           Peter tied the fabric tightly around Coulson’s wound, effectively stopping the loss of blood. It was not a life-threatening wound, so long as not too much blood was lost. He propped Coulson up from his position on the floor until the agent was leaning against a chair, head falling back onto the cushions.

           “The fuck are you doing that for, Parker?” Harry asked mildly, maneuvering Pepper to sit. “You know the House will probably make us kill him anyway. Loose ends, and all that.”

           “Shut up,” Peter said. Harry’s eyes widened in surprise.

           “Whoa,” Harry raised his hands in mock surrender, “it’s almost as if you’re angry with me.” He laughed suddenly, a cold sound in the silent room. “Come on, let’s go visit MJ. All this back and forth communication is tiring.”

           “It’s not a good idea to have them all in one place,” Peter countered.

           “What about when we have to contact the House? Don’t you want to make sure everyone follows orders?” Harry is teasing now, but it’s true. If Harry had gone off script before, MJ had rewritten the entire damn thing. It would be wise to make sure they followed the House’s next orders to a tee.

           “Alright. Let’s go.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can tell with my intense descriptions of, "business men," and "business people," all doing their "meetings" and "business," I really know squat about that kind of stuff. Pepper would be appalled.
> 
> My medical knowledge is equally extensive. So if you ever get shot in the shoulder by a crazed superserum soldier, I really dunno if tying fabric around the wound is going to help your survival rate. Please do not sue me via ghost mail. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please don't hesitate to let me know what you think! All comments are welcome, except for said ghost mail.


	3. Deeds Might Have Danced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hello, it's me  
> I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to...read a fanfic chapter?"  
> -Adele, in her past life as a voracious fanfic writer
> 
> I just want to say a massive THANK YOU to all the kudos and reviews so far, they really brighten up my day and give me motivation! A sincere apology on my part for being so tardy with this update!
> 
> This chapter isn't that long, but I decided to post it anyway. Sorry that not too much drama happens, it's mostly a segue into the next batch of events! Which I promise will be uploaded a hell of a lot faster than this one. Is it too cliched to say NEW YEAR NEW ME? (I mean, I'm writing Avengers fanfic so I think we boarded the cliche train long ago.)

 Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright  
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

-Dylan Thomas; _Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night_

 

            Before they could leave, Peter made Harry tie Pepper down to her office chair, with Steve tied down in a chair at room’s opposite corner. When Harry protested that Steve would be able to get out of them anyway, Peter shot him down with some words about protocol. He was on the phone now, talking to Flash while Harry waiting impatiently near the doorway.

 

            “…so we’ll leave them here, just keep us notified if anything changes,” Peter was saying. Apparently Flash was going to monitor this room through the cameras he hacked into, while he and Peter went to meet MJ.

 

            “Alright, I’m going to call W. We’ll update you in a bit.”

 

            “Hurry up, Parker.”

 

            Peter gave him a quelling look. It was Peter-speak for impatience, an expression Harry assumed Peter had picked up from watching the others back at the House. In Harry’s opinion it looked thoroughly less intimidating than the real thing, the way a fake smile does not do real laughter justice.

 

            But of course Peter was right, the way he always seemed to be. They had to check-in with Wade, the leader of this mission. He was probably wondering what the hold-up was. Harry watched Peter’s nimble fingers tap into the keypad of his phone. He felt a sudden flash of fear as he remembered who was responsible for a bleeding man on the floor. If Peter had been against it, would Wade be, too?

 

           Harry tapped into his super hearing, trying to detect the tone of Wade’s voice. But all seemed to be fine.

 

           See, he knew Parker was overreacting about the violence – necessary violence, might he add. So a guy got shot. Sure, he was a hostage. But it turned out they didn’t need him, and anyways, Peter’s attempts at bluffing weren’t fooling Coulson. If Harry hadn’t done it, one of them might have been shot instead. How sucky would that have been?

 

           At least, Harry thought Peter had been bluffing. _Go ahead._ _Shoot him. He’s no friend of mine, he’s simply a part of the plan. But I can improvise._ Yeah, Parker had definitely been bluffing. That guy couldn’t improvise for shit.

 

            “Just a few more minutes, Osborn,” Peter said, making Harry look up from his musing. “We’re waiting on hospital personnel to get here, then we’ll leave.”

 

In the corner of his eye, Harry saw Pepper slump her shoulders in relief. He stared at Peter, jaw agape.

 

“What – are you out of your mind? Let’s just bail right now! I mean, look what that fucker did to me, I don’t see hospital personnel running to my aid - ”

            “You’re a super soldier. He is not,” Peter said, calmly. The guy was always so irritatingly calm. A possible exception was when he had his headaches, but those seemed to have disappeared once the disaster was averted, a semblance of control taking its place. “And please push aside your issues to see the practicality of this, we can’t have him dying on our watch before Hydra is notified.”

 

            _My issues?_ He had no issues. Was this guy for real? Harry wanted to launch himself across the room and _give_ him a headache – “Parker. He’s just a guy in a suit. So is she,” Harry pointed a finger, his middle, in Pepper’s direction. “That woman is of no use to us now. Let’s _go.”_

“They are Stark and Fury’s closest confidantes, respectively,” Peter said, not even bothering to glance at the finger Harry still held up, “this is how we’re going to do things.”

 

            Harry had had enough. “Who made you king? Last time I checked Wade called the shots around here.”

 

            Silence reigned, for just a moment. Peter looked at him with unreadable brown eyes. His brow lifted slightly, as if tempting Harry to challenge him. Harry almost did it, almost closed that space between them. God, Peter drove him crazy.

 

            Then, a knock sounded on the door.

 

            “Come in,” Peter said, not looking away from Harry.

 

            A short, stout lady with mousy brown hair and wide, green eyes cracked the door open, staring inside the room. She hesitated when she saw Harry. He wondered how wild he must look like, with crusts of drying blood trailing across his forehead, in the middle of a semi-staring contest with Parker. This was the exhilarating part though, the obvious division between Hydra’s super serum soldiers and regular civilians. Harry could hear the woman’s heart beating fast, as if his cheek was pressed up against her very skin.  

 

            “He said to come _in.”_

 

            The doctor jumped, then quickly entered the room in a flurry of white clothing and erratic heart beats.

 

            “Close the door behind you, please.”

 

            God, but where did Parker pick up being polite? Harry couldn’t remember the last time soldiers in the House said please to each other.

 

            “Who’s the – _oh_.” The doctor’s eyes found Coulson’s slumped-over form and her gaze widened impossibly further. She sounded horrified as she said, “Agent Coulson!”

 

            So clearly, this guy really was important. Kudos to you Parker, you were right once again, blah blah blah. Harry ignored Peter’s pointed look – it was easy to tell where he had learned how to look smug, Hydra pulled that shit all the time.

 

            “Can we go now?” Harry asked, but Peter had looked away from him again.

 

            “How is he?”

 

            The doctor looked over her shoulder, mustering for the first time an expression of outrage. Harry saw Peter take a step back, surprised.

 

            “He’ll survive, no thanks to you. But I’ll need some time here to staunch the bleeding and eventually he will have to be moved to the hospital wing, so I can take the bullet out.”

 

            Peter looked at Coulson, still immobile and unconscious, to the irate doctor, his expression calculating. “Alright,” he said finally. “We’ll be back soon. Do what you can in the meantime.”

 

            The doctor nodded, looking somehow appeased as if she had seen something in Peter’s calculating look that Harry had missed.

 

            “We’re going to leave now. We have eyes on this room, so please do not try to escape, or we will be forced to take – different measures. We’ve made time and effort to help your friend,” Peter gestured towards Coulson, “that is, despite my assurances to my partner here, not necessary in the face of an escape. We will not hesitate to do further damage.” Peter looked mainly at Captain America as he spoke. “We have shut down all internet and mobile activity in this area, so there is no use trying to get exterior aid.”

 

            Peter finally turned back to him. He motioned for them to leave the room.

 

            “Isn’t she supposed to be a professional?” Harry asked, as they exited together. “Why was she so afraid - shouldn’t she be used to seeing these kinds of situations by now? She works at Shield for Chrissake.”

 

            Peter shrugged. “I don’t know, everyone bends to their emotions at unexpected times they can’t control.”

 

            Harry watched Peter stride down the hallway, his shoulders set squarely, purposefully. Only later would Harry realize that was the first time he had heard Peter admit he wasn’t sure about something.

* * *

 

 

            “Petey pie!”

            Tony looked up at the redhaired girl’s squeal in time to see two new figures enter the meeting room. The first was clearly the superior of the two, entering the room with a purposeful stride and acquiescing the girl with a nod. The other following him looked a bit battered, and the way his eyes roamed over the first was – well, strange. But telling, maybe. They were just kids after all, at the end of the day. The redhaired one had been pretending to be an intern, for God’s sake.

 

            Tony would have been more bent out of shape about being shut down by a bunch of kids, except that he wanted to _destroy_ these bunch of kids. So, they could have been eighty-year-old ex-cons for all it mattered, he was totally going to _get even._ The sound of Steve’s broken voice was still replaying in his ears like an audio nightmare.

 

            The first figure surveyed the room, eyes wandering more than once over the two corpses that still sat face-down near the table.

 

            “MJ…” he sighed. The way he said it sounded like he could have been witnessing MJ shred up his favorite doll or something.

 

            “Oh Peter, would you get over that? It’s been done. Whatever. More importantly, what did Wade say? Should we call Hydra now?”

 

            _Hydra._ Of course they were responsible for this. No rag-tag bunch of kids could usurp Tony of his Tower! And also, Hydra were basically behind every villainous act against the Avengers, that was just how things worked. Tony didn’t even feel surprised, which was just sad at this point.

 

            Tony watched the girl scrunch up her nose as if she had smelled something bad. “Oh, right sorry, I meant, what did _W_ say, Spider?”

 

            The second figure rolled his eyes. “Shut it, MJ, the code-name thing is stupid to begin with and I apparently already ‘gave us up’ to Coulson so it’s pointless.”

 

            “Aw, but I don’t want Spider to get mad,” ‘MJ’ cooed, ruffling ‘Spider’s’ hair. Tony didn’t know whether he ought to laugh or cry. Was this the same girl who had killed two people before his very eyes? He’d rather be shot in his other foot than witness that gross exaggerated display of affection again. And then, because he was Tony and back-talking was in his When I’m a Hostage repertoire, he said it aloud.

 

            “I’d rather be shot again than see you do that again.”

 

            MJ swiveled toward him, her crimson lips quirking up like some satanic Barbie doll’s. “I wouldn’t mind following through with that wish.”

 

            “MJ.” ‘Petey’ laid a hand on her shoulder. “Concentrate. Let’s go out in the hall and talk with Hydra now.”

 

            “Hold on,” MJ said, reaching for her holster. Tony had a moment of panic, thinking she was actually mad enough to follow through despite Spider’s orders.

 

            MJ raised the gun and shot three bullets near the feet of the business men and women, making them cower back into their corners. She raised the gun up to her lips, pretending to blow smoke off the revolver.

 

            “Nobody try anything while we’re gone, there’s plenty left where that came from,” she said sweetly.

 

            God, if he weren’t already dead Tony would have absolutely killed Mr. Perkins for hiring this crazy chick.

 

            And then they were gone.

* * *

 

 

             Gwen watched Wade hang up the phone, a pleased smile on his face.

 

            “Good news?” she ventured. It had been too long before Peter called, but all must be well.

 

            Wade nodded, shrugging back onto his post against the wall. “Now all we have to do is wait. The House was right, this is going pretty smoo - ”

 

            A crash sounded outside, like a giant in the sky clapping. Gwen leapt off the edge of Hawkeye’s bed, arms tensing for a fight.

 

            “What the hell was that?”

 

            When Wade was silent she looked to him, shocked to see an expression she had never seen before flit across his face. Despair.

 

            “It’s thunder,” he said. “Thor is coming.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IS WINTER COMING? Or is Thor coming.
> 
> Game of Thrones, ya ain't got nothin' on Thor when he's pissed his friends are in danger!

**Author's Note:**

> There will be mature content in this fic, as you could probably tell from the first chapter. Nothing too graphic, but there will be mentions of killing, descriptions of violence and injuries, and some dark mentality. Also, some characters may engage in some sex of the written form, or at least sexually related acts, later in the fic. Basically, I will be arranging words in phrases that may make you grossed out. Please read with discretion. 
> 
> More Tony and Steve interaction to come! Alongside their first encounters with Peter and stuff.  
> Also, it is not end game Harry/Peter…but if ya’ll rally strongly enough, I’ll put in a lot of steamy scenes.  
> Once again, that college tuition savings account has your review baby’s name on it!
> 
> <3,  
> pickyhandshake


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